


Gently Restoring my Soul

by sabrina



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-21
Updated: 2003-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabrina/pseuds/sabrina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Buffy and Spike return to Fort Summers, the slayers in training get their first chance to fight a real vampire, Buffy and Spike come to an understanding, and a potential gets a lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gently Restoring my Soul

**Author's Note:**

> _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ / S7 'Showtime'  
> 

  
  


The Summers’ house was unnaturally quiet. Buffy pushed the back door open, supporting Spike with an arm around his waist, as she pushed her way through it. Xander followed behind them and the three moved into the dim light of the kitchen. Buffy walked Spike over to a stool and helped him up onto it. He let out his breath in a raspy sigh and his chin dropped to his chest. He was obviously exhausted.

Buffy’s forehead wrinkled with concern. She reached over and tucked the blanket Xander had draped across Spike’s shoulders in more snugly then laid her hand on his shoulder to steady him. Even after his run in with Glory she’d never seen him so bruised. Xander stepped back, closed the door, and Willow stepped in from the dining room.

‘Is everyone asleep?’ Buffy asked.

‘Yeah, or they should be,’ Willow rolled her eyes. ‘They were pretty wound up after everything that’s happened tonight, but,’ she smiled suddenly. ‘I put on a History Channel documentary on Witchcraft in the Sixteenth Century and it quieted them down quite a bit. I think they’re sleeping now.

‘Good,’ Buffy said. ‘Are Giles and Anya back?’

Willow nodded.

‘Did they find anything out?’

‘Nothing they’re sharing right now. They both looked a bit tired, if there’s anything important I imagine they’ll tell us in the morning,’ Willow answered.

Buffy nodded and turned back to Spike. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Tired and a bit achey,’ he raised his head slowly and turned to look at her.

‘We need to get you upstairs so you can rest,’ Buffy said softly. ‘Willow, do we have any blood left?’

‘I think so,’ Willow nodded.

‘Food would be good,’ Spike said, his voice low, relief flashing through his eyes.

Xander had stepped through the archway to peer into the living room and now he turned back to Buffy. ‘They aren’t all asleep,’ he said softly. ‘A couple of them are, but the other two have their heads propped up, no doubt interested in a glimpse of our vampire.’

‘Well, they’ll just have to wait until morning,’ Buffy spoke firmly. ‘Spike needs rest tonight.’

‘Let’s take you upstairs. Xander, if you could dig up some clean things for him to wear till we can get these things washed?’

‘I’ll go grab some sweats out of my bag,’ Xander looked at her curiously. ‘Upstairs?’

‘Yes,’ Buffy said. ‘We may be up for a while longer and I don’t want to be up and down the stairs so the younger generation can watch our every move.’

‘Probably a wise decision,’ Willow nodded. ‘I’ll bring some blood up.’

‘Thanks, Will,’ Buffy said. She turned to face Spike and touched his shoulder lightly. ‘Spike, we’re going upstairs, you going to be all right with that?’

‘Yeah. I’m weak, but I think I can still conquer the stairs,’ he straightened a bit. ‘You sure about this upstairs bit?’

Their eyes locked and held. Buffy held the gaze until he nodded solemnly and using one arm pushed himself upright.

It was neither the quietest nor the quickest walk up the staircase. Spike, for all his brave talk, was still weak and he held on to both Buffy and the banister to pull himself up each step. Each movement was agonizingly slow. She grasped his arm firmly and wrapped her other arm around his waist, lifting and supporting his body as best she could. Although they were playing at sleeping Buffy could practically feel the curiosity of the still awake girls in the living room. She knew they were highly curious about this vampire that would be sharing a house with them, but their curiosity would have to be sated another day. Spike needed rest badly. As they reached the upper landing, Spike took a deep shaky breath.

‘You all right?’ Buffy asked, her voice quick and tight.

‘Yeah,’ he nodded and inclined his head to his chest. ‘I think I might have a bruised rib in there.’

‘Careful,’ Buffy’s words felt like a whisper to her.

Buffy moved across the hallway to her bedroom. Together they moved over to her bed where she eased him down. Spike sank willingly onto the bed. Buffy stood for an instant before sitting down beside him.

He was battered far worse than Buffy had ever seen. As her eyes scanned over his chest, she felt every bruise as if it were her own. There was discordant coloring around his ribcage and Buffy knew he was right about the bruised rib. More likely it was a broken rib. The First had cut symbols on his upper torso and although they were closed and no longer bleeding, Buffy was fairly certain that they would scar his chest for weeks, even months to come—possibly forever. Wincing, she lifted her eyes to his face. It was covered in dark bruises, one eye was swollen shut, and his upper lip was puffy and discoloured.

Spike turned his head slowly towards her. Slowly, he lifted a hand that touched her cheek. He ran it down her cheekbone and her jaw line till it came to rest underneath her chin. Their eyes met again and he swallowed hard. After a second, he dropped his eyes, followed immediately by his hand. The room was silent.

‘I knew you’d come,’ he said finally. ‘I prayed for it every moment. It kept me going. When she tried to tell me you wouldn’t, I believed you would. Still,’ he took a shaky breath. ‘Even with you here in front of me, it’s hard to believe it’s you.’

Buffy reached out and took his hand in hers, twining their fingers together. She squeezed his hand just enough so that the pressure would be felt.

She needed for him to understand what she could not say yet. She needed him to know that she would have come sooner if only she could have found a way. To know how every day he had been gone had pulled at her soul like a prison ball and chains. She needed him to know how her heart sang with pure relief at his return. Instead she said simply:

‘It’s me, Spike. It’s really me.’

He looked up at her, his eyes filled with wonder and a pleasure that wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

There was a knock on the door and they both turned. Willow stood in the doorway a mug in her hand. Buffy slowly released Spike’s fingers and stood up.

‘I put it in the microwave,’ she handed the mug to Spike. ‘It’d been in the refrigerator. Should be a bit warmer for you this way.’

‘Thanks, Red,’ Spike said.

He reached for the mug and his hand wavered. Buffy knelt beside him and steadied the mug, holding the straw between her fingers so that it was easier to sip from. He gave her a grateful nod and slipped into game face. There was silence in the room as Willow and Buffy waited for Spike to finish. Finally came the sound of air being sucked through an empty straw and Spike leaned back, the wrinkles easing out of his forehead as his human face returned.

‘Better?’ Buffy asked him.

He nodded. ‘I will be.’

‘Buffy,’ Willow looked at her friend. ‘I’m going to go ahead and go back to my bed. If you need me, you’ll call?’

‘Yeah,’ Buffy nodded. ‘Thank you.’

Buffy stood: ‘I’m going to get a wash cloth and see if we can’t wash up your face a bit. Then you should rest.’

She hurried to the bathroom and dug in the cabinet for a terry washcloth. Moistening it under the warm water in the sink, she squirted just a bit of the scented anti-bacterial soap that was sitting on the sink onto the cloth. Night-blooming Jasmine didn’t seem like Spike’s scent, but it would do for now. She would get Xander to bring something over from his place tomorrow.

‘Hey, Buffy, laid some stuff there.’

She’d exited the room to find Xander setting up a cot by the wall. He motioned to the stack of dark blue sweats on the bed beside Spike.

‘Great, thank you,’ Buffy smiled.

She knelt in front of Spike and with the washcloth began to blot at the dried blood on his face. He grimaced and she hesitated. He shook his head and motioned for her to go on. Twice as carefully as before, she lightly wiped the skin.

‘It’s warm,’ he said. ‘And…’ he closed his eyes. ‘Jasmine?’

Buffy nodded, carefully pressing at dried blood along his hairline. As she kept the washcloth over the blood, it moistened, loosened, and started to rub away.

‘Jasmine?’ Xander shook out a blanket across the cot, stepped back, and then turned to look at Spike. ‘I’ll bring you over something a bit more manly tomorrow, Spike.’

A sound that might have been a chuckle sounded from Spike’s gut: ‘I’d appreciate it, Xander.’

‘I was going to ask you to if you didn’t mind,’ Buffy nodded to Xander. ‘I didn’t have any other soap. Running the bed and breakfast hasn’t exactly given me a lot of extra shopping time.’

‘I’m on it,’ Xander said. ‘So long as everything stays calm tomorrow.’

‘It’d better,’ Buffy said under her breath.

‘You need anything?’ Xander asked, waving his hand about the room.

Buffy looked at the cot and then back at Spike. ‘No, I think we’ll be fine now, thanks.’

‘You sure?’ His eyes caught hers and Buffy could see buried in Xander’s calm gaze the still automatic distrust.

‘I’m sure,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

With an admirably amiable nod, Xander moved out of the room and pulled the door nearly closed.

Buffy continued wiping Spike’s face. They were both quiet as she wiped away dried blood from his hairline. When she had finished Spike’s face, she sat back on her heels. ‘A full shower probably wouldn’t hurt you,’ she said quietly. ‘But you’ll heal some tonight and it’ll probably be an easier endeavor tomorrow or the next day.’

Spike nodded.

Buffy stood up and placed the cloth to the side. She walked across the room to the closet where she pulled out an extra pillow and placed it on the cot. Even with her back to him, she could feel his eyes taking in every inch, including the left foot she was favoring in her walk. One of the blows the Turok-Han had dealt her leg was causing her some pain when she took a step. It was the type of injury that would be gone tomorrow.

‘You’re hurt,’ he said finally.

‘Yeah,’ she pulled another blanket out of the closet although she knew that he’d only need the one. ‘That lovely little vamp the First dredged up gave me an extra workout.’

‘You’re all right, though?’ His voice was soft, less raspy than before he’d had food.

‘I will be,’ she turned around and looked at him. ‘We both will be.’

He simply nodded.

‘Can you change out of those pants yourself?’ Buffy asked him quietly.

He looked down at the filthy jeans and using the bed as something to prop himself against, he stood. He carefully reached down to the sweats on the bed, and wobbled enough to cause him to sit back down. He sat still for a second, his eyes closed, the hand she could see clinched in frustration. With a deep breath he opened his fist and and without looking back at her, spoke.

‘Will you help me?’

Buffy nodded and walked over to him. Buffy motioned for him to sit down on the bed again. He did sit down and she undid his shoes and took them off. Then she stood in front of him and reached for his hands, assisting him to his feet. He stood in front of her, quiet, his hands on her shoulders. Buffy reached for the deep charcoal sweat pants Xander had left on the bed.

‘These should be soft on your skin, anyway,’ she said lightly. It was strange to be this close to him. After everything that had happened between the two of them last year, Buffy was finding herself suddenly shy about seeing Spike minus his dark jeans. She’d managed to be professional nurse Buffy earlier, giving him food and washing his face, she’d just have to be professional now.

‘All right,’ she said, feeling as if her voice was hypocritically cheerful. She reached to unbutton his pants. ‘Let’s get these off you so you can rest.’

One of Spike’s hands moved down her arm and came to rest on her hand. ‘If you’re uncomfortable, Buffy…’

The thought dropped between them. His awareness of her unease nearly undid her, but she swallowed and raised her eyes to meet his. His non-swollen eye was troubled, the blue the deep color of a storm sea. Struck by the concern she could see in his face, she realized how much she needed to be able to help him now. She’d spent the last few days worried sick about him, and now here he was in front of her. She needed to be here for him.

‘You asked for my help.’ Buffy stated simply.

She unbuttoned the pants and eased them gently down over his hips. He raised one leg, and she slid the pants off that leg, then the next. She unfolded the sweatpants and allowed Spike to step into them. Then she brought the elastic band up, over his thighs, his hips, and settled it against his waist.

‘Thank you,’ he said softly.

She nodded, and picked up the filth crusted jeans at her feet, which she took over and deposited in the laundry basket. She returned to the bed and helped him over to the cot. He eased down then looked up at her.

‘Do you have some chains or ropes?’ Spike asked.

She stared at him for several minutes before responding: ‘Do I need them?’

‘I’d like to say no. And if it were just the ghosties that we were considering, I’d say no that without question. It’s just, that trigger you were talking about. A song, a folk song I think. I don’t think it’ll work, now that I’m aware what’s going on. But, Buffy, I can’t be certain of that.’

‘Then I’ll stay up tonight,’ Buffy said quietly. ‘Watch you.’

‘Buffy,’ He looked up at her. ‘You don’t know…’ He hesitated.

‘I don’t want you in ropes any more, Spike. If you’d been free, there’s no way the harbingers would have walked out of here alive, much less you with them. I want you free to fight if you need to.’

There was a long silence.

‘Even if that means I’m free to hurt you?’

Buffy walked across the room and pulled a comfortable pair of yoga pants out of her closet. She understood his fears, sometimes she felt they were mirror images of her own; but she also believed they were, at this point, unfounded. Others might play ‘better safe than sorry’, but she knew he needed to believe in himself as much as she believed in him. And that started by her treating him as if he were trustworthy.

‘You won’t,’ she said finally, turning back around to face him. ‘We’ve both done our fair share of hurting each other, Spike. I’m through hurting you if I can keep from it and I know you’re finished hurting me.’

Spike ducked his head and ran his hand over his eyes.

‘I’m going to change into something more comfortable,’ she said. ‘Then I think we should talk about the next few days.’

‘Go ahead,’ he turned his head to give her privacy.

Aware of the gesture, Buffy removed the jeans and shirt she was wearing and pulled on a dark tank top and her favorite pair of yoga pants. She folded the other clothing and laid them on a shelf and then she walked over to the bed where she sat down, Indian style, facing Spike. Now that she was finished he turned to gaze at her.

‘What’s been happening?’

‘So much I hardly know where to begin,’ she said. ‘We’ve got about five potential slayers downstairs in the living room.’

‘Potential slayers?’

Surprise filtered through the eye Buffy could see.

‘Five girls Dawn’s age or younger, who don’t know the first thing about being a slayer,’ she nodded. ‘One of them hadn’t even been assigned a watcher. They’ve seen a lot of scary things over the past few weeks and they know that there is an evil out there that wants them dead. They need to be prepared to fight it.’

‘What evil?’ Spike asked her. ‘Have you figured out what this thing is?’

‘It’s called the First Evil,’ Buffy told him. ‘It’s the thing that created evil. It’s millennia old and it’s ready to fight. When those monk guys came and took you away, I recognized them because I’d fought them before.’

‘You have?’ This time the surprise was unmistakable.

‘Yeah, senior year, when…’ she hesitated uncertain how much she should say and if it was even worth bringing Angel up. Spike had never loved Angel and she didn’t want to upset him more, but he needed to know everything.

‘When Angel came back from the hell dimension, this thing appeared to him in the form of… I don’t know, people he’d killed and tortured. It tried to get him to kill himself. It would have succeeded had it not been for the cloudy sunrise. After it didn’t succeed with Angel, it just disappeared. Even when it was there, torturing Angel, it didn’t do anything else. It seemed to focus entirely on undoing Angel. I don’t know if it even knew that I, as the Slayer existed. This time it’s different. Not only is it haunting you, appearing to you in the form of dead people, but it’s gone after the entire Slayer line like this…’

‘So, the way these ghosties torture me—taunt me—it’s done this to others?’

‘Yes.’

‘I see,’ Spike looked at her. ‘So you’ve got a houseful of potential Slayers who need to be prepared to face evil.’ Their eyes met and Buffy nodded. ‘What can I do?’

With a sigh of relief, Buffy rose from her bed and came over to sit down beside him. ‘Spike, I know perhaps I have no right to ask for your help, but I could use it right now. These girls need a Watcher type. Someone who can train them what they need to know about evil. You used to be one of the bad guys—you know how it works—how it’s real. You can be bluntly honest about the reality of evil. That’s something they need right now.’

‘Of course I’ll help,’ he turned his eyes to meet hers. ‘Anyway I can.’

‘Good.’

Relief flooded through Buffy. The first conversation was finished without hurt or defensive undertones. There was a long silence as they sat beside each other for several moments. Finally, Buffy moved from the cot and walked over to her own bed where she got in under the covers and sat up, leaning her back against the headboard.

‘You should get some rest,’ Buffy said.

Buffy watched as Spike lay down slowly and carefully. He turned onto his side, wincing audibly as he did so and then the room was silent. So thankful to have him back, Buffy sat watching, noting the apparent lack of movement. An irrational fear that she would lose him while he was right before her eyes ran through her but she pushed it aside. She pulled her knees up to her chest.

‘Spike?’

‘Yes, pet?’ He didn’t turn over.

‘I missed you.’ Buffy spoke softly and for a moment she was afraid that she would need to repeat what she had said. She wasn’t certain she would be able to get the words out a second time.

Slowly, Spike turned himself over to face her.

‘I missed you too, luv,’ he said softly.

* * *

When Spike opened his eyes again, he could see that Buffy’s bed was made up. He sat up slowly, testing each muscle as he did. They were sore, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been. Instead of the sharp stabs of pain that he had lived with every time he moved a muscle, this pain was a dull, steady ache that he could function with. Swinging his legs over the side of the cot he took in the day. Light peaked in between the heavy drapes over the window indicating a late afternoon sun was still up. His jeans were folded neatly on the side of the bed closest to him and beside them was a dark button up shirt.

Spike stood and picked up the shirt, slipping it carefully over his shoulders. He left it unbuttoned. His face was still sore and he wondered just how bad his eye still looked. Momentarily wishing for the easy solution of just looking in a mirror, he reached up and gingerly ran his fingers over his face. It was tender, but he could see out of it.

‘You sure look like a ferocious bad vampire,’ he mused ironically. ‘More like the kid the school bully just beat up.’

He slipped off the borrowed sweats and pulled on his jeans. His hair, he knew, was still an absolute wreck. He walked across the room and hesitated before the door to the bathroom. He knocked softly, double-checking that there was nobody in there, then pushed the door open slowly.

Seeing the tiles, the curtain, the dresser in the corner, the last events before he’d left Sunnydale washed over him in a new, and yet familiar wave: Buffy’s screams, his insistent pushing, and her words. ‘Ask me again why I can never love you.’

He stood in the doorway, the events of that night washing over him and he leaned against the doorframe and shut his eyes against the room. In spite of everything she had come after him. He’d believed that she would. Whatever she might feel or never feel for him… well, he’d learn to live with that as the days came.

A light knock on the bedroom door made him turn around. Buffy stood in the doorway dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple pale blue tank. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a clip, strands of hair escaping and framing her face. She smiled.

‘How are you?’

He straightened up.

‘I can walk on my own, I’d say that’s a good sign,’ he watched her carefully as she walked towards him.

‘Well you’re not completely healed yet,’ Her eyes dropped to his chest. She reached her fingers out and pushed the shirt aside to touch the symbols on his bare chest.

He reached up and covered her hand with his and she stopped. She didn’t raise her eyes to look at him, and he squeezed her hand gently.

‘Not yet, but I’m working on it. One night did miracles, vampire healing, all that, I’ll be fine in no time.’

She looked at him now.

‘Spike, it’s been three days since I got you at the cave.’

He looked at her. ‘Three…?’

She nodded.

‘I’ve not been up at all? You didn’t wake me?’

‘You were out completely the first night and day, the second and third days you’ve been restless. You move in your sleep, you’ll seem to wake for a bit, but when I say something, it’s like you’re not hearing me. After a while, I decided to let you sleep until you woke on your own. It seemed the best thing to do, to let you rest and heal.’

He nodded.

‘Well, maybe it’ll be a bit longer to total healing than I’d thought,’ he said, keeping his tone neutral. ‘But, still, vampire healing, I’ll be all right.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘You should wash up here before you go downstairs. Your face is looking better though.’

‘Yeah, I can tell,’ he smiled. ‘I can actually see out of my eyes.’

He felt his body tighten as Buffy brushed past him into the bathroom. She opened a cabinet and pulled out a towel and a washcloth.

‘This should help with the cleaning bit,’ she said handing them out to him.

He reached his hands out slowly, flinching as her hand brushed his.

‘Are you all right, Spike?’

‘Yeah,’ he murmured. ‘Just…’ He stared at the terry cloth in his hand his eyes seeing the baby powder blue of Buffy’s robe that night. ‘Yeah, I’ll be fine. Buffy?’

‘What?’

‘Just that,’ he hesitated, fleshing the words out in his mind before speaking. He didn’t remember doing that so much before. Seemed before he’d always had the right words to say. Maybe it was the soul made him second-guess himself. Goodness knows it made him realize he had reason to second-guess himself.

‘Before I left, I did a lot of things wrong. I know that. I hurt you badly. When I came here to help you, you asked me not to start by saying I was sorry,’ he took a step towards the lavatory and took a deep breath. ‘I’m not starting there, Buffy. I don’t deserve your forgiveness for anything I’ve done and I’m not going to say that I’m sorry, but I’m going to do everything in my power to make certain you know how sorry I am.’

He turned slightly, his back towards her and put the towel and washcloth down on the lavatory. Placing both hands on the cool marble, he leaned against it. The silence after his words was torture as real as anything the First Evil had done to him in the last few weeks.

After what seemed like hours, a hand touched his arm, and he swallowed.

‘Spike,’ Buffy said.

He turned and met her eyes.

‘We both made a lot of mistakes last year,’ she said softly. ‘You’re not alone there. And I didn’t have the excuse of not having a soul.’

‘Buffy,’ he started.

‘No, let me finish this.’ She stepped away from him.

‘What you said to me before you were taken by the bringers. You were right—about pretty much everything. I did hate myself. I did use you. And I did take out all of my self-loathing on you. You’re not the only one who needs to be forgiven here.’

He turned, and was struck by the moisture in her eyes. ‘Buffy—’

‘Spike, I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry for using you, for not giving you the respect… for not seeing you.’ Her words tumbled over each other and fell into the distance between them.

‘You did see me Buffy,’ he turned away. Disgust at himself came crashing back against his soul as memories of atrocities committed rose like tidal waves. ‘The evil, the darkness, you saw me very well.’

‘No,’ she said simply, shaking her head once. ‘I didn’t.’

He turned his head and their eyes locked.

‘No, Spike. All I saw was a leashed animal and I refused to see the changes you had been making all along. From the times you protected Dawn from Glory, to the summer I was dead, the evidence was all there and I refused to see it. I believed I was better than you and I’m not, Spike, Please forgive me.’

He closed the distance between them and stood in front of her. He touched her cheek with his thumb, wiping away the tear that slid down.

‘I forgive you, Buffy,’ he said softly. ‘I forgave you a long time ago.’

She raised her eyes to meet his.

‘I know. But I needed you to know I was sorry… for everything.’ She raised a hand and laid it against his cheek, her soft skin warm against his. ‘I need you here Spike. Not just to help me with the girls, although I need that too. I just,’ she shrugged and dropped her eyes, embarrassed under his gaze. ‘I’m glad you’re back.’

He reached a hand up and took hers in his. He held it at his cheek for a moment before bringing it down.

‘I still love you Buffy,’ he said quietly. ‘I know you may never love me, that’s all right. I can live with that.’ He was silent a moment and then he spoke again, cursing himself for asking despite already knowing the response. ‘Do you think you could ever…’

‘Yes.’

The answer was such a surprise that he was uncertain what to say in response. As he was silent, she continued.

‘Spike, I don’t want to rush anything. And God knows this is no time for romance and first dates, but I want to make it through this. And more importantly, Spike, when this is all over with I want to be beside you.’

Air rushed out of him he hadn’t even realized he had inhaled.

‘Buffy,’ his voice quivered and he took a breath to steady it. A smile began at his lips. ‘Me too.’

He squeezed her hands and she squeezed them back.

‘Are you up for some training?’

‘I’ll be down as soon as I wash up my face and comb back my hair.’

‘Good,’ she released his hands. ‘I’ll be waiting for you.’

The promise spoke of more than simply gathering teenage potentials for training.

As she left the room, he turned back to the lavatory and picked up the washcloth.

About thirty minutes later, Spike stood at the top of the stairs completely dressed and clean. After Buffy had left, he’d decided to take a shower and actually wash off all the grime, filth, and blood left over from the First’s torture chamber. As he’d redressed he’d realized the button up shirt Buffy had placed on the bed for him fit so perfectly he knew that it could never have been Xander’s. He’d put it on, leaving the top couple of buttons undone so that it was casual and comfortable. His hair had been a bit of a trick but he’d finally managed to contain it with some gel he’d found under the sink.

He took a deep breath, knowing that there were potential slayers he needed to impress; he placed his shoulders back searching for the over-confident stride he’d been able to pull off so easily. As he moved his shoulders back, he realized that all the confidence he really needed, he’d been given just a few minutes earlier. He reached the first floor and turned into the dining room.

Dawn was sitting at the table in front of what was probably Red’s laptop. She looked up at him. He could see her measuring him with her gaze. He gave her a brief smile and a nod.

‘Hello, Dawn.’

‘You look better,’ she said in response and her eyes flickered. ‘You feel better?’

‘Much better, thank you. Where’s your sis and those slayer wannabes?’

‘In the basement,’ Dawn pushed her hair behind her shoulder. ‘Buffy’s set up a training room of sorts for them down there.’

‘Should I go on down then?’

‘I guess,’ she replied non-committal and then more seriously: ‘I think Buffy’s waiting for you.’

‘All right then,’ he walked towards the kitchen and had reached the door before he was stopped by Dawn’s voice.

‘Spike?’

He turned around.

‘Listen, you having this soul,’ she shrugged. ‘I don’t understand. What I mean is I’m not sure what difference it makes. You did good things before and people with souls can do rotten things, but you did rotten things too, so, no difference again. I mean, I guess what I’m trying to say is, I get that you wanted to be better after stuff you did so that’s why you got it. So,’ she shrugged again. ‘Good on you.’

‘Thank you, niblet.’ He nodded and gave her a smile.

‘Still,’ her eyes flickered. ‘What I said, about you waking up on fire. Still holds true.’

‘I respect your wanting to keep her safe, Dawn.’ He nodded. ‘I don’t plan on hurting big sis anymore. Not if I can help it leastways.’

‘Then, good.’ Dawn looked down at her computer screen and then up to him. ‘I kinda missed having you around. I mean, the you that helps us and stuff.’

‘Hopefully, that me is back to stay,’ he said quietly.

Dawn nodded and turned back to the computer screen and Spike regarded her for a moment before he turned and walked through the kitchen. He opened the door to the basement, noting the plywood patch where something had obviously bashed through it. The Summers’ home had seen much better days. The wooden stairs creaked as he stepped down and at the bottom of the stairs he turned to see about six girls, all in different training outfits, with different weapons watching him.

Buffy was in the middle of the group and she turned and gave him a smile.

‘You took longer than I was expecting,’ she said.

‘Thought I should shower. The stench I was giving off was enough to make any slayer turn tail and run,’ he said in a snarky tone.

‘We wouldn’t want that,’ Buffy said lightly and turned around to the girls. ‘Everyone, this is Spike. He’s a vampire with a soul; he fought for that and earned it. He’s on our side and he’s going to help me train all of you.’

‘Ello, girls,’ Spike said smoothly. ‘See some of you’ve got your weapons ready. That’s your first lesson right there. Always,’ he gave Buffy a wry look and saw the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile. ‘Always have your weapon ready.’

He stepped off the bottom step and began walking across the room, eyeing the crossbow the dark haired slayer was holding, and the pair of stakes a young girl with curly hair had firmly in her hands. This one swallowed hard and spoke up timidly.

‘You’re British.’

‘So’re you,’ he grinned at her. ‘And now that we’re such good friends, luv, what can you do with those pointy sticks you’re holding there?’

She looked at him and down at the sticks she was holding. ‘I…’

Spike shifted into game face and was across the room in an instant. Before the potential slayer had even realized he’d moved, he had one of her stakes pointing directly at her heart.

There was utter silence in the room and out of the corner of his eye he could see Buffy watching him closely. The dark haired girl with the crossbow had raised the weapon and was eyeing him very carefully. He nodded at her and loosened his grip on the young girl in his arms. He could feel her heart racing.

‘Lesson the second,’ he said softly in the girl’s ear. ‘Know when to use those weapons… don’t hesitate when the moment comes.’

He released her arms and stepped back holding the wooden stake out to her. Wide eyed she took it from him. He softened his face and gave her a half smile.

‘Did I frighten you?’

She looked around the room, taking in each of her wide-eyed peers and nodded.

‘Good,’ he continued. ‘I’d rather you be frightened now, here, with me, and be ready out there, with a vampire that’s not going to stop when he’s got you in his grasp. What’s your name pet?’

‘M-Molly.’

‘All right then, Molly,’ he gave her a smile. ‘You’ve got the weapons. We’re going to teach you how to use those pointy sticks effectively.’

‘If you wouldn’t mind putting that down,’ he turned around to face the crossbow bearing potential. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Kennedy,’ she said carefully. Her eyes flashed and he nodded, something in her gaze reminding him of Buffy’s determination.

‘You’ve had some training with that haven’t you?’

She hesitated a moment and then nodded. ‘My Watcher taught me.’

‘Good.’ Spike stepped out into the middle of the circle and turned around taking in each girl’s face in turn. ‘Which one of you never had a watcher?’

A dark skinned girl with overalls raised her hand hesitantly. ‘That’d be me.’

‘You have one now,’ Spike said. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Rona.’

‘Good to meet you, Rona, you’re gonna be a bloody brilliant slayer someday. There’s a few things you ladies should know about me before we start this venture. First,’ he looked around at each of them. ‘Before I got my soul, I killed two slayers. That’s probably something Buffy hasn’t told you,’ he glanced over at the current slayer and she shook her head slightly.

‘I’m not proud of it, but it’s part of what I’ve done once upon a time. What I’m going to attempt here, is to teach all of you, how to never let that happen. If you have questions you want to ask me, about anything, slaying, fighting, vampires, even my personal history, that’s fine. Please do. I’ll answer them best I can. I’m here to help you be the best you can be. Are you ready for that?’

He looked around the room. There was a mixture of fear and uncertainty mirrored on each of the faces. And then the one called Kennedy nodded and the other girls followed suit. Spike gave them a brief smile.

‘All right, then, let’s start at the beginning.’

* * *

Later that night, the living room was full of very tired potential slayers and Spike leaned back against the doorframe and watched the people around him. As he noticed Andrew staring at him, Spike couldn’t help a small smirk and he nodded at the kid. Andrew’s eyes widened and he looked away.

‘All right pizza,’ Xander came through the doorway and Spike moved from the doorway, reaching out to catch the top box as it came sliding off the stack.

Xander looked at him and nodded. ‘Thanks, Spike.’

Spike followed him across to the table and opened up the box laying it next to the other boxes Xander was placing out. A swarm of girls moved across the room and Spike stepped back. A slice of cheese pizza actually sounded kind of fun but he didn’t need it and he had no doubt Buffy’s budget was being stretched enough without him unnecessarily adding to it.

Stepping back, he exited the family room and stood in the dining room. He needed quiet and time to think. He’d wanted to help Buffy with her patrol tonight, but she’d asked him to stay at the homestead, to be there in case of trouble. Under that request, he sensed that she wanted him to heal more before he joined her. He turned back through the kitchen and opened the door to the basement.

The light was on and he ran the list of household occupants through his mind. He stepped down the stairs and when he reached the bottom looked over. A makeshift vault sat in the corner, and sitting on it her legs crossed and her head in her hands was Molly.

‘Mind if I join you pet?’

She raised her eyes, at first slightly wary and then he felt her suspicion clear and she shrugged. ‘I suppose you’re here, aren’t you?’

‘Sure am, but if you want me to leave, I can go elsewhere.’

‘It’s fine.’

He nodded and walked over to the vault and sat down on the opposite end. They sat each in their own thoughts. Upstairs, Spike could hear feet moving around and occasionally the sound of voices.

‘They have pizza up there, if you want some.’

‘I’m not really that hungry,’ Molly said. There was a long silence before she asked her next question. ‘Are there a lot of vampires with souls?’

‘No, I don’t suppose there are. I only know of two and I can’t say I’ve heard of any others.’

‘How do you know? I mean, as a slayer? What if you, you know, made a mistake?’

‘And killed a vampire with a soul?’

Molly looked up at him. ‘Wouldn’t that be like killing a person?’

Spike considered.

‘If you’re fighting a vampire, good odds are he doesn’t have a soul. And if he does, and he’s fighting a slayer, good odds are its not doing him a bit of good.’

‘But you were killing people, even with ‘aving a soul.’

‘Buffy told you that?’ He looked at her surprised.

‘No, she didn’t. I mean, she didn’t deny it. It’s just, Eve…’ Molly shifted and looked down at her feet. ‘Eve was a potential that didn’t make it ‘ere. The monk guys killed her and the First pretended to be her. She told us that.’

‘Well, for once, it’s telling the truth.’ Spike sighed. ‘Having a soul doesn’t mean you’re home-free love. I fought to get my soul so I wouldn’t do bad things anymore, only to come back to the hell mouth and be brainwashed by some evil force so ancient it doesn’t exist in even the Watcher’s texts.’

She was silent a moment. ‘Are you like you were before now?’

Spike turned and looked at her.

‘I mean, before you were a vampire, when you were human. Are you the same person again?’

‘Not exactly,’ Spike said. ‘I’m… I’m not sure what I am now.’

‘I understand that,’ Molly sighed. ‘Sometimes I’m not sure what I am either. Being a potential slayer, but I mean, way I understand it, I might not actually be called. And to be called that means well… the current slayer has to die and I don’t want that. I like Buffy.’

Spike’s jaw twitched.

There was a long moment of silence before Molly looked up at him again and asked: ‘What were you like as a human, who were you then?’

Spike stared at the wall across from them a hundred memories flushing back in. His childhood, his dreams, the night those dreams had been shattered and he’d crossed over into another world.

‘Just an ordinary bloke. Someone you might pass on the street without seeing.’

Molly turned to look at him.

‘I can’t see you ordinary,’ she said finally.

‘Believe it, pet,’ he chuckled. ‘I was ordinary, a bit of a geek. I dreamed of another world, of being a romantic hero. Grew up on the legends of Arthur’s court, Aeneas, Odysseus, Hector… Bloody Romeo and Juliet… I was bookish, wrote terrible poetry. For a long time after I was turned… even not so long ago, I was glad I’d been turned. I didn’t feel like that side of me was worth anything.’

‘And now?’

He eyed her. ‘You took me seriously when I said you could ask questions about me personally, didn’t you?’

Embarrassed she ducked her head and looked away. ‘Sorry, you don’t have to answer them, I didn’t mean to—’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he dismissed her concern. ‘It’s just most of this stuff I’ve never discussed with anyone.’ He focused on a crack in the concrete foundation across from them. ‘Now, well, I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask. I don’t know that I see myself clearly as of yet. Right now, I’m sort of, looking in a mirror and waiting to see what’s reflected back.’

‘I thought you couldn’t—’ She stopped. ‘Oh, not a real reflection, right?’

‘Right, luv,’ he smiled at her.

‘You weren’t always named Spike were you?’

‘What makes you think that?’ His smile widened.

‘Just, Spike seems like a nickname.’

‘It is… I was William before.’

‘William,’ she was quiet for a moment. ‘Do you think you’ll ever be William again?’

It was Spike’s turn to be quiet and he was. Finally, he shrugged and turned to look at her. ‘I never really stopped being William. I always have to be the buggering romantic hero. The fool for love, the…’ he stopped, a bitter taste in his throat and he swallowed. What else had he thought he was when he’d teamed up with his worst enemy to drag Drusilla away from Sunnydale, or when he’d stood outside Buffy’s window at night? Had he really believed he could change things? He realized suddenly that Molly was staring at him.

‘That’s why you got your soul.’

He tilted his head at her and she looked away.

‘You’re a hero right? That’s what heroes do, you know, go on quests and stuff.’ She kind of grinned. ‘I’ve see Monty Python and the Holy Grail.’

Spike chuckled. ‘Lesson the third, pet, don’t believe everything you see in the movies,’ then he turned serous. ‘I don’t suppose I ever saw myself as actually being a hero. Specially not after everything I’ve done.’

‘I think you are,’ her voice held a note of determination. ‘You did something other vampires don’t, something they don’t even think about doing. Trying to be good. It seems to me, that if vampires are anything like the evil I’ve seen so far, that’s an almost unimaginable quest right there. If you’ve never stopped being William then I guess that makes him a hero, right?’

Startled at the realization, Spike stopped.

As a vampire he’d done everything he could to separate himself from that part of himself and yet the nagging insecurities had remained. It had been William’s need for acknowledgement that had shaped the vampire reputation Spike had obtained. It had been William’s desperate desire to have one woman and to be everything for that one woman that had caused him to join forces with Buffy against Angel. And perhaps, it had been William who had longed to see the light again. William that had driven him to Africa so that he could be the hero for the woman he loved.

‘Maybe it does at that,’ he said softly.

‘You’re a smart girl, Molly. You’d make a fine Slayer.’

‘Thanks… I think.’

He looked at her and grinned. ‘You have any more impossible insights, pet?’

She grinned.

‘Or questions?’

‘I think I’d better stop before you take that stake to me again.’

‘I’d have to go after the stake, but it could be done.’ He nodded.

‘Thanks. For answering,’ She stood up and looked back to him. ‘I guess, I’d best go up with the others.’

‘Before they eat up all the pizza.’

‘Yeah,’ she grinned. ‘You’ll teach me more tomorrow?’

‘There’s a lot more to learn, luv,’ he nodded. ‘I think Buffy’s planning a little outing for all of us tomorrow night.’

‘Good, it’s too small to do anything in here really.’

‘True enough.’

Molly turned and he watched her feet march up the stairs until the disappeared at the top and the door to the upstairs closed behind her. He sat up a bit straighter, feeling as if he’d been given a gift. The girl was young and inexperienced, true. She knew very little of his life history, except what he’d just told her. Somehow, however, it was another piece of himself. He’d spent most of his unlife despising the man he’d been before he was turned and tonight for the first time he was thankful for that man.

He wasn’t ready to take that name back, but maybe it was time to start reconsidering the person he’d been. When he’d been granted his soul, he’d started to hate himself, but he was realizing that the person he hated was the demon he’d become. It was time to start rebuilding and a mirror image—a reflection—was a good place to start. William the Bloody… William the Hero. He could live with the switch.

Buffy believed he could be a better man. Molly believed he was a hero.

The hellmouth was falling to pieces around them. The ground was promising to devour them all. An evil so ancient it was known as nothing other than The First had declared all out war on the woman he loved more than his own life. He was going to fight it all. To the end.

 _I always knew I would go down fighting._

If was the end, so be it, but if he went down now, he would go out as a hero. As the man he’d always wanted to be.

  
  
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End file.
